Warmth
by Silver Dread
Summary: Russia is on his way to the world meeting being held in Detroit in the middle of winter. Many people struggle in this city and just a simple act, by even the most unlikely people, can make the biggest difference.


She sat there in the cold snow of winter, alone and shaking. She was propped up against the side of some tall building, the frozen brick chilling her back through her thin shirt. She could feel the tears in her eyes freeze against her cheek in the dry Michigan air. She had no where to go, no friends to stay with, no family to go back to. Her home was burnt to ashes, her friends had abandoned her, and her family was slaughtered. She had no reason to live, she just wanted to die, to succumb to the cold that was freezing her to the bone.  
She laid her head against the cold brick and merely waited for either the snow or hunger to take her. She had been like this for over two months now, sitting and waiting for death to come. It had been two months since that day when she had come home to discover her mother, father, and two brothers dead, skulls crushed and chests stabbed. Two months since she had received word that the exact same had happened to the rest of her family. Her grandparents, her aunts, her uncles, her cousins, they all came to the same end. Two months since her friends had abandoned her, saying she needed help or was broken inside. Her friends could have died along with her family and she would be in the exact same state she was. Two months since her house had been set alight and burned to the ground, along with everything she owned. She was left with only the clothes on her back, her cell phone, which had died some time ago, and a small photo of her and her brothers. Two months since she decided life wasn't worth living anymore.  
She closed her eyes. She was tired beyond belief and thought if she fell asleep now, she wouldn't have to wake up again. She could feel her arms and legs numbing, left without feeling from the snow. Her breathing slowed until only small wisps of air entered and left her lungs.  
Finally, she thought, I can leave this worthless world. I can rid myself of this cold, lifeless existence.  
As an eternal sleep began to tug at her body, a soft voice called out to her. "Hello? Hey, wake up. Hey!"  
Go away, she thought. Go away like everyone else in my life.  
Despite her internal pleading, the soft yet strongly accented voice called again. "Wake up! Hey, come on." She could now feel a slight pressure on her shoulder.  
Curiosity and annoyance getting the better of her, she opened her eyes. A large man knelt in front of her. A big, heavy-looking trench coat encased his body and a pale pink scarf wrapped around his neck. His grayish brown hair fell just above his eyes, which were a sparkling violet orbs. His gloved hand rested on her shoulder. A small, good-natured smile rested on his lips.  
"Good. You have woken. Are you ok? You will freeze out here like this, no?" The man said. His accent clicked in her head as Russian. She doesn't say anything, merely looked at him, wondering why he was even bothering to talk to her. "It is ok. I will not harm you. I only want to help."  
"Why?" She croaked out in a weak, crackling voice.  
Ignoring her question, he said, "What has happened to you? Where are your parents?"  
"I don't have any. They were killed." She shuddered from the memory and the cold.  
"Any friends?"  
"No, they left me." She said without thinking. She doesn't know why she is telling this strange man these things, but it doesn't matter. Nothing does.  
"Then you are like me, da? My friends and family all left me, leaving for either death or just to get away." His smile saddened a little.  
She sat up a bit, figuring the man wasn't too bad to talk to before she died.  
"What is your name?" He asked.  
"Roxana."  
"What a beautiful name. You look cold. Here. Take my coat." He unbuttoned his large trench coat and handed it to her.  
"Won't you be cold?"  
"Me? Nyet, I am used to the cold. It is always cold at my home." He helped her wrap the oversized coat around her shoulders. She snuggled into it, burying her face in the fabric. She could immediately feel a difference in her temperature.  
"It's warm." She murmured. She could already feel her body thawing out.  
"I am glad. You could die out here, da? Warmth is a necessity at my home. It is here, too."  
"Why are you doing this for me?"  
"Why? Because I was like you. I was alone and in the cold and needed someone there more than anything else. I needed warmth and kindness. I do not want that to happen to anyone else." He looked into the street and at the cars passing by, splattering slushy snow to the sidewalk. "People pass by without noticing anything until it is too late. I must help before then, da?" He stood up and brushed the snow from his pants. "You know, your name means, at my home, 'dawn'. Dawn brings warmth to each day and must be warm itself, else everything will be cold." He smiled at her once more.  
"Goodbye, Roxana. I hope you will be ok." He started to walk away, back into the rest of the world.  
"Wait!" She called. He stops for a moment and looks back. "What's your name?"  
"Ivan."  
"Thank you, Ivan." She smiled the best she could at the Russian man. He merely smiled back and walked away, leaving her with the thick, warm coat draped around her shoulders.

-Later-

"Russia! You're late!" America scolded him as he entered the meeting room. Everyone was silent as he took his seat next to China. "What took you so long? And... where's your coat?" The hosting nation asked timidly.  
"I met a young girl on my way here on the streets of your city. She needed it more than I."  
Everyone stared at the powerful, intimidating nation in disbelief. "Y-you... helped a girl on the streets of Detroit-aru?" China asked him.  
"Da. She was cold and alone. She was like me."  
"I can't believe you would do that for one of my people..." America says thoughtfully.  
"It does not matter if she is American or Russian, she needed help. She was about to die. She needed to be warm." The nations' shocked expressions softened into small smiles.  
"Even Russia has a heart, I suppose." England whispered to himself, though everyone could hear him.  
"As long as it doesn't fall out!" France joked. Laughs rang out through the meeting room, though they were quickly silenced by Russia's evil stare.  
England looked at America, the only country who did not laugh. "What's wrong, America?"  
The younger nation smiled. "I actually do feel a little warmer now." England smiled with him.  
"Of course you do. Kindness, even from Russia, is the most warm."

-END-


End file.
